Tricks and Honor
by Like A Singing Bird
Summary: After a trick goes too far, a prince and a courtier find themselves forced into a marriage that neither one wanted. Now joined forever, the couple struggle to find a common ground even though each finds fault in the other. Time has no boundaries in The Realm Eternal, but unbeknownst to Loki and Sigyn, it is running out. -Slight AU, taking place before and during Thor/Avengers
1. After the end

"_Do you often wish that none of this had happened?"..._

_..."I tire of this game"_

_"Husband"..._

_..."Give it to me!"_

_"I'm burning!"..._

_..."You and none other"_

_Stop it._

The rushing sounds of water filled her ears. Nature and its surrounding life abruptly invaded her senses as she urged her thoughts back into the present_._

_Stop it. This will change nothing._

She looked up.

The constellations of The Realm Eternal spread out across the sky in a dazzling display of color and light, especially fantastic against a canvas of night sky. Like all of life's consistencies they could easily be taken for granted and ignored, but Sigyn never failed to find solace in the natural beauty of her home whenever she took the time to pause and lift her eyes. It afforded her the momentary comfort of becoming lost in memories of happier times or, at the very least, days when she didn't feel so alone. An outsider would dismiss it only as a cruel mockery of one's own sensibilities. She agreed, but that had never stopped anyone before.

Unfortunately, she could find no joy in it now. The recollection of every happy memory in a lifetime couldn't assuage her desire to be anywhere else but there. Now she could only call to mind nightmares past, broken promises, and bitter heartbreak. So much had changed in only a few short weeks, and a menacing darkness had descended over Asgard.

No one wanted to talk about it, but it was there, so doggedly persistent that Sigyn felt as though she were its source. It hounded her like a shadow that she could only see out of the corner of her eye, and her presence in any room only amplified the general feeling of unease. Wherever she strode, people would stop talking, stealing weighted glances when they thought she wasn't looking or covering their whispers behind jeweled fingers. It wasn't hate or fear; they pitied her. They always had, and now it made her blood boil.

Sigyn screwed her eyes shut and inhaled deeply. This kind of thinking wasn't productive with what she had set out to do.

The cool air served to clear her thoughts somewhat and she willed the muscles in her back to loosen as much as they could. Opening her eyes again and gazing out, she noted that the waters of the Gopul river were unusually calm for that time of night. The opposing bank was almost obscured by its distance, and the river boasted nearly twice as much in depth. Dim lights from a nearby fishing village blinked sporadically, though no living soul would be able to spot the Asgardian princess who shared their beach so far away, shrouded in shadow as she was.

She reached up to push the hood of her cloak away from her face, releasing ropes of dark braids. Watching the starlight as it danced along the water, she did her best to ignore the face she glimpsed amongst its ripples.

A voice broke the air, "Don't do this."

Sigyn tensed. Her head raised, but she didn't look behind. She knew already who had followed her and silently chided herself for her own lack of awareness. She could hear the rocks clacking beneath her pursuer's feet and then the footsteps abruptly soften as they carried over to the shoal.

"Please..."

"_Leave_, Idunn," Sign spoke with detectable vexation, "Get back to the palace before they miss you."

Idunn, unsurprisingly, ignored her older sister. Two thin arms slipped through Sigyn's own and wrapped about her waist, a youthful face pressing between her shoulder blades. All attempts to remain rigid and cold faltered as Sigyn found she could not stay irritated. Sighing heavily, the elder rested her head against the youngest and caressed the hands that clasped around her stomach,

"There is no other way..."

"There _must_ be!" Idunn interrupted with a sob in her voice, tightening her embrace, "Speak with the AllFather again, _make _him listen to you! Or the Queen or..._someone_!" She released her hold and tugged on Sigyn's arm until she yielded, turning so they were face to face, "I've never known you to be called a fool, let alone completely mad. And I know because that is commonly what they say about _me_!"

At that Sigyn laughed. Idunn had long since established her reputation as Freya's wild child, and Sigyn could always count on her to lighten the mood, even if it was only for a moment. Her expression regressed into a wistful smile as she reached forward and fiddled with a lock of her sister's golden hair. She still wore it completely loose down her back with only the two parts pulled over each shoulder, just as she had ever since she was a child.

"I must do this, love. If I do nothing then I truly _will _go mad."

Idunn stared at her in poorly-concealed anxiety. Her eyes were shining, "I know why you came here and it won't work. Sigyn, it _can't_. Why do you think that Odin is the only one who seeks counsel from the vǫlur? Because he is the only one who can _come back_."

Sigyn shook her head, "He is the only one because he does not fear them."

"And you don't?"

"That does not matter," she replied, dropping her hand and stepping back.

Idunn exhaled a high-pitched squeak, straightening her slight shoulders in exasperation, "Maybe you _are _mad! Why can you not accept what has happened and there is nothing you can do? If you could hear the things I've heard-"

"I could care less about what the court has to say!" Sigyn snapped.

"_They say_," Idunn stubbornly continued, "That _he_ has complete control over you! That you would walk through fire if he asked, no matter how many times he wrongs you," She crossed her arms and raised her chin with a challenging eye, "Look at what you're doing. You would prove them right?"

Sigyn frowned. She loved her dearly, but Idunn was still very young and far too willing to allow the opinions of the assembly sway her judgment. It was common opinion that everyone had a role to play in the court, be it the warrior, the lover, the fool, or whatever best suited the mechanics of the theater politic. Her own role as an object of pity (something they could compare to their own, happier lives) simply did not suit her anymore.

The princess looked up at the stars, thought for a moment, then calmly said, "Is that what you think, sister? That I am a mindless slave?"

"No! I just-" Idunn's amber-colored eyes searched the air, as though she might find the right words to say there, but after an instant she appeared to give up, "You are so _stubborn _sometimes! I think that you enjoy being miserable."

Sigyn struggled to conceal a smile. She reached up again and smoothed her sister's worried face, taking it in both of her hands and pressing a kiss against her brow. Idunn reached up to grip her wrists and sighed, conceding defeat.

Her voice was softer now, "What if Heimdall sees you?"

"He is with the AllFather," Sigyn assured her, "and they have more important things to observe than my comings and goings." She pulled away from Idunn and tucked a stray thread of her own dark hair behind one ear, flashing a sheepish grin, "And I've taken measures to ensure that he doesn't, regardless."

"Hmph," Idunn scowled, but added nothing further. Sigyn took advantage of the silence to grab her sister's hands, expression sobering and fixing her with a steady gaze.

"Go now, I don't want you to watch. Whatever happens..." The words suddenly stuck in her throat and she swallowed hard, "know how dearly I love you."

They both stood silently for a moment, listening to the voice of the river as it moved along the sand bank. Idunn refused to meet her sister's eyes.

"He wouldn't do the same for you," she said quietly.

The sentence held no ridicule or derision, merely stating a fact. Sigyn offered no reply, knowing none was needed. She took a haltingly deep breath to regain her composure and gave Idunn's hands one final squeeze before releasing.

"I will see you in the morning."

Idunn nodded, wiping at her eyes before forcibly turning herself around. Sigyn watched her leave, her own amber eyes following the golden beacon of hair as it diminished and ultimately vanished into the distance.

She could not be certain if that had been the truth or a lie. But finding herself now assuredly alone, the Asgardian princess knew she had delayed for long enough.

_This is my choice._

Turning back to the river, she bent down and began to fill her robes with stones.


	2. Beginnings

**Author's Note: First of all, a sincere thank you to those who have followed the story and commented so far. This was an idea that simply wouldn't go away and I'm happy that there are those here interested in it as well. Second, I would like to beg patience from all Marvel comic purists and Norse mythology nuts alike. This story will be mostly based on the MCU canon with bits of the others mixed in, so I've taken some creative license. That having been said, this is probably the most research that I have ever done for a fanfic. Please enjoy...**

* * *

Loki stood against a wall of ivy, periodically sipping from his wine glass and watching the crowd as it flowed past. The noise in the courtyard had grown near deafening with the echoes of chatter bouncing off of the bright golden statues that loomed above them. This sort of chaos was not unusual during a great celebration. Today was Thor's birthday, and the grounds were filled with hundreds of courtiers, emissaries from every allied realm, and even some of the lower ranking nobility from the outlying villages. It had been an endless week of feasting, drinking and revels. For most, it was the opportunity of a lifetime to come to the palace and have their gift personally accepted by a member of the royal family. For Loki, it was simply an opportunity.

Occasionally, a courtier would bow his or her head in acknowledgment of the younger prince, but Loki was largely left alone. He preferred it that way, having been subjected to enough inane chatter to last him for a thousand lifetimes. In the past there had been the odd newcomer who would attempt a conversation with him in the hopes of raising their status, providing him with no end of amusement in wordplay. Today, however, he ended potential interactions quickly and made his body language as unwelcoming as possible. The sky was growing darker and soon Odin would give his speech to the court.

"I marvel at your serenity in the midst of such madness, your highness."

Loki nearly started. That voice…it was so deceptively sweet and melodic. It made the hair stand up on the back of his neck, but he forced a neutral expression as he intently examined the contents of his glass,

"What are you doing here?"

A woman materialized out of the corner of his right eye. She was dressed just as elegantly as the rest of the guests, perhaps even a little more simply, but the combination of her striking features and the wild orange-red hair that tumbled out of her head was more than enough to draw the attention that Loki so desperately wished to avoid. She bore it with no welcome or notice, ignoring every curious glance in favor of procuring a goblet of wine from the nearest server.

"Am I not welcome to celebrate my sovereign's birth?" She asked him.

"You know that you are not."

"Oh? You were in charge of the guest list, were you?"

He still wouldn't look at her, so she moved to stand in front of him and gave him no choice, holding his focus captive with her dark blue eyes. She was looking considerably more youthful than when he had last seen her; her guileless demeanor dangerously disarming for anyone other than him—he who truly knew her for what she was.

"Perhaps, as a faithful citizen, I should present myself to the AllFather. I have no gift, but I am sure that Prince Thor would appreciate whatever I could come up with."

"_Huld_," Loki warned in a low growl, "If Odin finds you here, you will be at his mercy. I will not speak for you."

She smirked and the mask drop. _Now_ she looked exactly like herself, "I am deeply touched by your regard, my prince, but let's not play games. You're concerned my presence might draw attention away from whatever..." She paused thoughtfully, "_distractions_ you may have planned. Am I correct?"

Loki's eyes darkened. Huld was a seiðkona of notorious reputation in Asgard, possessing a devious mind and a taste for the theatrical. Their partnership had grown quickly from such like-minded interests, affording her a powerful political ally and him a teacher for the darker magical arts. But where Loki knew the use of his magic came with limitations, Huld did not. Her idea of mischief had led Odin to banish her from the palace grounds nearly a century before, with return only upon pain of death. Her standing there, mere inches away from his person, was the absolute last thing that he needed.

And, of course, his irritation was greatly escalated by the fact that she _was_ correct_._

There was a wolfish smile on Huld's face as she watched him. She appeared to be in perfect sync with his thoughts, "Fret not, your highness. I'll not ruin what is undoubtedly to be a most _delightful _evening. I'm merely here as a spectator."

Loki arched a brow, "Are you?"

"You have my word. There are times I simply like to watch."

"And what if the AllFather sees you?" He glanced in his father's direction, "Just because I've taken the credit for some of your little 'jokes' doesn't mean that he's completely forgotten about you," He eyed the top of her head, "and lighting your hair on fire would have been less subtle."

Huld's eyes rolled upwards to inspect a fallen tendril, "Oh, dear Loki, sometimes I think you greatly underestimate me."

A servant passed between them, seemingly unaware of the witch's existence. Loki's view of her was blocked for the briefest of moments, and then restored with the sight of an entirely different woman. The mass of fire-wild hair was gone, replaced a duller, straighter blond. Her face was softer, rounder, and completely unremarkable—her frame was even slightly shorter.

Nearly every detail of her person had been altered. Everything except the eyes. They were still the same shade of deep sapphire blue.

She winked at him, melting into the crowd with little effort or effect on those around her. Once she was gone, Loki exhaled a small sigh, hating her for setting his nerves on edge for the rest of the evening.

* * *

"Do you think you'll have this many people at your wedding?"

Idunn stood on her tiptoes and craned her neck to see over the crowd—a decidedly futile attempt, as the girl's head barely reached the shoulders of most adults. There was no mistaking her excitement; it was her first royal affair. Gone were the days of watching from above and unseen in the balcony with the rest of the children, now she was to be a presence in the court just as her mother and sister were.

Sigyn tilted her head upward as a soft breeze wafted in from the East. With her whole heart she welcomed it. So many bodies in such close proximity were threatening to overwhelm her. Her legs were already complaining from having to stand straight as an arrow for the entire evening, but she knew that Freya would insist on nothing less. Not when her only daughters were on public display. Idunn had only been granted some leniency due to her youth.

"Hardly," Sigyn replied to the question with a hint of a smile as she watched her sister, still bouncing on her tiptoes to get a glimpse of the royal family. She gestured to the younger, "Calm yourself, little bird. You're not missing anything, I promise you."

Defeated, Idunn lowered slowly back onto her heels and collapsed against a stone wall, crossing her arms over her stomach with a huff. The new gown she been given to wear, a lovely soft pink swathe of fabric, was now bunched up against the dirty limestone and threatening to catch on one of the gnarled branches that climbed up its side. Sigyn had known from the beginning that there was no way the garment would last the night, so it really shouldn't have surprised her when she spied something on the hem.

"_H__ow_ in Hela's name did you manage to get mud on your dress? There's nothing but stone here!"

The girl stiffened immediately with eyes wide. She pushed away from the wall and twisted comically to look at her backside. Sure enough, a smear of mud provided a striking contrast against the rose of her dress.

"Oh…I suppose that's from the orchards. I told mother that I did not want to wear pink!"

"Another color would have suited the dirt better?" Sigyn asked with an arch look, "Why couldn't you leave those damned apple trees alone for one night?"

She bent down to inspect the frock for salvage, pausing briefly to pull up a fallen strap on her own dress. It was one that her mother had also selected, more fitted than Idunn's doll-like garment. Gold fabric wrapped around her midsection and connected to her neck with a silver-plated clasp, leaving her back relatively bare to combat the heat of an Asgardian summer. Matching straps criss-crossed over her upper arms—rather uselessly, as they weren't really needed to hold anything in place—and connected to the wide silver bracelets she wore on her wrists. The only choice Sigyn had been given about her appearance had been her hair, which she had chosen to leave loose on her shoulders. Not her first choice for comfortable evening wear, but when was a public event in Asgard ever about comfort?

"And why not?"

Idunn's question made Sigyn look up.

"Why what? Oh, the wedding?" She shrugged and waved a hand, "You know how they are. I doubt anyone here will care to attend a soldier's wedding."

"Odin will be there."

"The AllFather is performing the ceremony, he _must _be there," Sigyn's slender fingers worried at the fabric, "and his presence will be honor enough, I don't need the entire realm in attendance."

"But you're an Academic Guardian of the court, Sigyn! You decide which academies those ninnies' children will go to."

_And for how little that matters to them, there are no words, _Sigyn mused as she brushed some of the dirt away, but to no avail. Giving up, she stood and tugged on Idunn's arm until she backed up. Perhaps, if she kept her back to the wall for the rest of the evening, no one would notice.

"Peace to you, Lady Sigyn!" An older couple passed by the sisters. Sigyn recognized them as the parents of a girl she'd mentored and decorously bowed her head in acknowledgment. A few others called out similar greetings, but none approached.

Minutes dragged by slowly as the mob continued to drink and laugh and speculate. One of the passing servants offered Sigyn a drink and she took it, savoring the bitter gold liquid as it passed by her lips.

"So, is it to be a _dull_ ceremony then?" Idunn hummed, "Theoric will love that."

Sigyn swallowed, "Oh, yes? And shall I guess: you would prefer an enormous fete surrounded by hundreds of people you don't know, staged in the great hall, whilst I wed one of the Warriors Three instead of an ordinary guard?"

"I never said he was ordinary," the girl insisted through a mischievous smile, spreading her hands wide, "Though it paints a grand picture! Fandral _was_ greatly interested in you, you know."

Sigyn snorted. That had been nearly ten years before, back when she had been new to palace life. Theoric had not even begun to court her, but Fandral possessed a great talent for finding new women in the court and came readily armed with a hundred glorious tales of heroics in which he played the lead. Secretly, young Sigyn had felt a small amount of delight at being so singled out—Fandral only ever went after the prettiest girls. But thankfully she wasn't fully ignorant; his reputation was so pervasive that she knew well enough to politely dismiss his compliments and invitations quickly before too much gossip was spread.

"Nothing would have ever come of it," she dismissed the notion with a small wave, "You could put Ymir in a dress and Fandral would show interest."

Idunn giggled at the image, then looked off in the distance as something caught her eye. Unmindful of her sullied dress, she skipped away, leaving Sigyn alone in a sea of strangers. She took another sip of her wine as she continued to watch the festivities. More specifically, her amber eyes scanned the faces of the guards nearby. Their identical uniforms and imposing, curved helmets made it difficult to tell one from the other. But as one turned his head, Sigyn smiled with recognition.

* * *

Thor stood at the center of the pavilion, dressed in his most formal tunic of deep red with gold, articulate braiding and wearing boots made of the finest leather. Their mother hadn't insisted on full military regalia, much to Loki's relief. His own helmet would have drawn far too much attention (in addition to weighing down painfully on his neck if he wore it for too long). Though despite the lax formality, he noted that Thor still held Mjolnr in his right hand.

Laughing mightily with Volstagg and clapping him on the shoulder, Thor's bellows could still be heard clearly above the din. The golden prince was not to be outdone on his own birthday. Sif stood to his right, rolling her eyes but smiling nonetheless. Hogun, true to his name, grimly surveyed the scene. Fandral laughed heartily with his chorus of admirers. All was as it should be.

Odin stood on the dais nearby, grasping Gungnir in his right hand and overlooking the festivities with an air of regal magnificence that only the AllFather could emanate. Frigga stood to his left, ever by her husband's side in public and in private. She, too, was the very picture of resplendent nobility, though the veneer cracked marginally when she caught Loki's gaze and smiled warmly. He could see his youngest brother, Baldur, standing just in front as their mother rested her hands on his shoulders, serving both to comfort the little prince but also to anchor the noticeably fidgeting young boy. Thor had never been so, but Loki remembered how terrifying it had felt to be so small in front of so many people.

The servants had begun to light the lanterns on the perimeter. Crowded and strepitous as the courtyard was, the servers were able to navigate easily with their trays, achieving a level of invisibility that Loki almost envied. Selecting one to shadow, the prince wove through the crowd and found his way to his merry band of friends with little difficulty.

"Brother!" Thor's beaming grin grew to twice its size when he noticed his approach. They grasped hands and Thor immediately pulled Loki into an almost crushing embrace. He was always more ostentatious during public celebrations, especially his own.

They parted just as quickly, but Thor kept a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"It is fortunate that you have joined us. Volstagg was just recounting to us the story of his journey to the Underland."

_The Underland?_ Loki raised a disbelieving eyebrow and looked to the brawny warrior. Volstagg nodded quite fervently, though his attention was somewhat diverted by the nearby banquet table,

"Indeed I have, and barely escaped with my own life!"

"That's because you weren't there," Sif interjected, garnering a scowl from him, "There are none who can cross into the Underland. That hag's hut in the marsh doesn't count."

"She was a _seiðkona_!"

"Who filled your thick head with enough mead to make _Heimdall_ forget where he was!"

At the word "seiðkona" Loki glanced back at the guests. He found nothing, but knew it would be so; Huld would have changed her appearance again by now. The two warriors continued to argue in the background but he was no longer paying attention, turning his head the other way to look over his shoulder towards the stables.

Watching, Thor nudged him in the arm.

"And where is _your _gift, brother? I've been worried you'd forgotten."

Still looking over his shoulder, Loki smirked, "Soon."

"You're not going to release giant mice into the guest chambers again, are you?"

"That would displease you?" Loki glanced at him with a knowing look, "As I recall, your laughter was the loudest."

Thor smirked at the memory, "Yes, well, you remember the conditions of our bargain?"

"Undoubtedly."

Silence fell between them and their eyes locked, each brother mutely dared the other. Thor broke first and began to laugh. Loki grinned, unable to hold back his chuckles at the thought of what was to come.

* * *

"...and I cannot tell you how proud we were to see Hall chosen to apprentice as one of the great Stonecarvers!"

"Yes, well, he's a very skill—"

"And how _elated_ he was to leave for training last week! You would think that he had been chosen by the AllFather himself!"

"I'm sure he was—"

"Oh, but my Sigrid! If only she were so talented with her needlework..."

Sigyn felt her smile becoming a rictus. It likely wouldn't do to point out the obvious differences between needlework and masonry, but she'd learned long ago that it was wiser to simply allow parents to talk. The lady before her now, covered head to foot in jewels and balancing a frighteningly high pile of braids upon her head, had been speaking on her offspring for nearly ten minutes now. The focus was her children, but the conversation always seemed to steer back to how their accomplishments reflected upon their mother. Sigyn could relate, though not with present company.

A strap in one of her sandals slipped and was now digging painfully into her ankle but she could not move, frozen in place by social duty. More powerful than a spell of incapacitation, who could have guessed? Perhaps Odin was sending the wrong warriors to fight their enemies. The sudden image of an Asgardian mother gabbing a Dark Elf into submission entered her mind, and staring intently into her wineglass was all Sigyn could do to keep a straight face.

Just then, a tall guard with a fierce looking face approached the two women and gave them a stiff bow.

"Lady Sigyn. Forgive me, but the Queen has requested an audience with you. It is most urgent that you come with me _now_."

She looked back to the mother. A hand was to her jeweled throat as she stared at them both, wide-eyed and suddenly speechless. Sigyn offered a brief curtsy.

"My apologies, I beg you would excuse me," she nodded to the guard, "Lead on, soldier."

The guard turned sharply on his heel and Sigyn followed. It wasn't hard to keep an eye on him with his long gold cape and distinct helmet, but he moved so quickly that Sigyn had to double her steps just to keep up. She neglected to inform him that they were, in fact, heading in the opposite direction.

They walked into a small garden located in an alcove just outside of the party. A pretty golden fountain stood at its center, providing the only other occupants with a convenient place to bathe their feathers. The birds took flight upon the entrance of the two Asgardians, leaving them completely alone.

The soldier grabbed Sigyn by the hand and pulled her abruptly towards him for a kiss.

"Theoric!" Sigyn exclaimed once she was able to pull away and rubbed her forehead, "your helmet!"

"Forgive me," he grinned at her and immediately removed the offending object before moving in to capture her mouth again. His golden curls were still matted against his head. She reached up and raked her fingers through them. He was nearly a full head taller than her, so Sigyn slid her arms around his neck and pulled herself up on her toes to return her affections. In that moment, nothing existed. Not the party. Not Asgard. Only their garden and the empty void.

A glass shattered. Theoric's grip tightened on her arm as he broke their kiss and scanned the area for a trespasser. A drunken couple stumbled past their garden, laughing loudly and seemingly unaware of their existence. They were gone in the breath of a moment, but the distraction was enough to break her dreamy stupor. Sigyn slid her hand down to Theoric's chest and gently pushed until the gap widened between them, though he still held her in his arms.

"We shouldn't be together this close to the wedding," she told him firmly, trying her best to be serious. The skeptical look on his face told her she wasn't succeeding, "We'll be ostracized."

"By who?"

"Them!' She gestured to all of Asgard, "A bride is to remain apart from her intended after the engagement until they are wed. Have you no concept of tradition?"

He looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, "You are so stubbornly resolute in the silliest things, beloved."

She frowned, "Do not mock me."

"I'm not!" He insisted with a weak laugh, an attempt to lighten the mood which died instantly once he spied her irritated expression. He tried again, "Lady Dagny could hardly keep her hands off Alrik after their engagement and in public, no less! No one cares about that sort of thing anymore."

He tried pulling her back into an embrace, but Sigyn resisted and backed away until he had no choice but to release her. She was irritated with him now. Only a small part of her knew that standing this close to him was also clouding her judgment, not that she would admit to it. She circled the fountain to put something solid between them, branches from an overhanging willow brushed lightly over her shoulder. A now equally piqued Theoric crossed his arms over his chest as he watched her retreat.

"_'Tradition and honor must marry to assure Asgard of her rightful throne in the universe_," Sigyn quoted. She idly plucked leaves from the branch and let them fall between her fingers into the water, "My father was very adamant about such things, and I happen to agree with him. Our past and our future stay knit together only by a fragile thread, are we wrong to preserve it?"

"And your mother shares this view also?"

She paused, her breath halting as she searched for the right words. That was never an easy topic.

"Freya is…traditional in her own mind. If she had her way, I would be a nobleman's wife."

"She's never told me thus," There was surprise in Theoric's voice. He dropped his arms, his smile returning and good humor restored to his tone as he walked around the fountain, "So…the fair and honorable Lady Sigyn has chosen to defy the wishes of her mother to wed a humble soldier. Not so bound to the rules after all?"

"Not so bound as you are, _soldier_," Sigyn countered, though she couldn't hold back a laugh, backing away as he approached, "And the _queen_ demanded my presence? You didn't think the lady would notice that we were walking _away_ from the royal family?"

"I think…that you look very beautiful tonight."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Then shall I rely on inducement to capture my prey?" He flashed a wry smile, reaching into his arm guard and producing something small and sparkling in the lamplight. Sigyn halted, staring but unable to identify the offering. Theoric's smile widened as he closed the gap between them and held up his hand.

"Your snare, my lady."

He let the object tumble from his fingers. With a gasp Sigyn quickly held her hands out to save it, but it did not fall. It hung from a thin gold chain still between his fingers.

Theoric's snare was a glass pendant. A perfect oval set with a design of gold filigree. It looked so delicate that she was afraid to touch it for fear of fracturing something so beautiful. Theoric laughed and cupped his free hand under hers, letting the necklace descend into her open palms.

"How extraordinary," She breathed, the laughter gone from her voice as stared at the gift in awe. Her mind felt as though it were in a fog once again.

His fingers closed hers lightly over the ornament. Sigyn looked up to find his expression suddenly serious and intent as he looked at her. Sigyn felt her legs go weak and the color rush to her cheeks. He had such a strong effect on her, and so easily achieved.

"This is my promise, beloved," He told her with absolute resolution, "Until the last star has burned away, I am yours. Now and always."

She took his larger hand in her own, holding the necklace against her breast with the other. Despite the Eastern breeze, her entire being felt warm. Content.

"Three days."

"Is far too long," He whispered, drawing her close and kissing her again.

* * *

It was Frigga's call that finally drew their attention.

Gently but firmly, the queen urged Baldur forward and beckoned the middle brother to come take care of the youngest. Loki nodded to her and glanced at Thor, who had sobered and now looked fixedly ahead with his jaw set. The two princes approached the dais.

Baldur nervously padded a couple feet away from Frigga, but hesitated to venture any further. Loki couldn't blame him. Baldur's birth had caused great joy in the kingdom and all had been eager to catch a glimpse of Odin and Frigga's very own, but he had been kept out of the public's sight for many years while he grew. Now that he was old enough to attend his first formal ceremony, the courtiers had not been disappointed. Like his mother and father, like Thor, Baldur had been born with golden hair and eyes so brightly blue one couldn't help but become entranced by them. He was truly a beautiful child, with a curious and creative nature that garnered much amusement from his elder siblings. Loki liked to think that could be attributed to his influence, because it certainly hadn't come from Thor.

He walked over to his younger brother and offered an outstretched hand, jerking his chin towards the steps, "Come and stand with me, Baldur."

Clearly relieved at no longer having to be at the forefront of the crowd, the little prince took it eagerly and followed Loki as they moved off to the side. He was still very small, so Loki hoisted Baldur up onto a ledge for a better view.

Thor moved to stand next to his father and mother, and the guests began to settle with anticipation.

"What's going to happen now?" Baldur whispered so loudly that he may as well have kept his normal volume.

Loki dipped his head and spoke quietly, "Father is going to make a speech and present his gift to Thor."

"What is it?"

"A very fine stallion, sired from Gulltopp."

"Oh."

The last remnants of the sky dimmed into twilight. Odin raised Gungnir and brought it down with a mighty _CRACK_ that shook the ground and silenced what conversations still lingered. Hundreds of eyes looked up to the great king and Odin raised his head. His great booming voice was strong and clear as it carried over his subjects.

"On this day, so many years ago, Asgard was given a great gift. It was a gift born out of hope, out of peace," Odin looked to Frigga, "raised in _love_."

There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd. Odin looked over to his firstborn, and Thor drew himself up to his full height. He appeared to be trying his level best to suppress a smile with varying degrees of success.

"So many years ago, I was given my first son, and Asgard was given her future king!"

The assembly broke into applause, cheering with choruses of "hear hear!" Thor unleashed his grin and raised Mjolnr into the air, stirring the noise level to a dull roar. Sif and the Warriors Three whooped and raised their fists. Baldur clapped delightedly. Loki was the only one who remained passive, preferring not to react to his brother's bombast.

Odin waited for the noise to die down and continued with his speech, going into expressive detail about his and their mother's hopes for the future of Asgard and the prince's many favorable Asgardian qualities. Loki tuned it out, having heard it all before. He glanced over to Baldur. The boy appeared to have stopped listening as well, now preoccupied with staring at his lap and wringing his hands.

"What did you give him?" Loki asked him quietly.

"A flute that I carved," Baldur paused, "But I think he will like the stallion more."

"He may, but he will love that flute because you made it for him," The Aesir prince tilted his head, "That is worth at least a hundred stallions, surely."

Baldur smiled a little at that and visibly relaxed. He seemed to show little interest in his father's speech, "What was your gift, Loki?"

"I haven't given it to him yet."

The silence between them was only for a moment before the little prince brightened.

"Is it a trick?"

Again, too loud. Loki opened his mouth and paused, looking around to see if anyone had overheard. All attention was still focused on Odin as he spoke and on Thor as he nodded with each word of praise and grinned like an idiot.

Loki smiled to himself. It would be interesting to see how clever their youngest brother could be.

"You've started your riding lessons with the old stable master by now, yes?" Loki spoke casually to his brother but kept his eyes on Odin, "Sinarr. Do you like him?"

Baldur frowned and shook his head, "No. He hits my legs with a crop when I don't sit in the saddle properly."

"Mmm, he would do the same to Thor and me when we were boys, too. We hated him for it."

There was a long pause, and Loki could practically hear his brother thinking. Then,

"What are you going to do to him?"

"Nothing."

Another pause.

"What _did_ you do to him?"

Loki smile grew a little wider. He _was_ a clever boy.

"Nothing. I haven't gone anywhere near Master Sinarr," he cast a sly glance at the boy as he watched, "I have, however, been visiting the stables. Two or three times this week, since Master Sinarr has been away. I felt that the horses might enjoy some small rewards for their hard work, so I gave them sugared apples from my pockets. And while I fed them, I whistled."

Baldur's eyes narrowed and he looked sideways at Loki, "Master Sinarr whistles whenever he's in the stables."

"Yes, I suppose he does," Loki looked back towards the stables again. Even from that distance he could see light from the interior and shadows moving within, "Now, imagine that old Sinarr is on his way to the stables at this very moment to retrieve Thor's gift," he looked back to Baldur, "He'll be quite merry and whistle as he always does, especially knowing that he'll be handing over the reigns the future king himself."

The young prince looked back down at his lap and appeared to be thinking hard. Then, his head shot back up. He looked back at his older brother with his mouth hanging open, and Loki winked at him.

At that very same moment, Odin had opened his mouth to announce Thor's gift, but was abruptly cut off...

"_AAAARRGHHAAAA_!"

* * *

"What was that?"

The noise from the crowd dampened it, and the cry itself seemed muffled as though coming from an interior, but the desperation and fright in its pitch was apparent and could be heard by all. Sigyn broke out of Theoric's arms and hurried out of the garden to investigate. Outside, the merriment of the massive assembly had all but died, replaced with gasps of surprise and alarm. Another scream, still muffled but clearer now without the dissonance. Every head turned in one fluid motion to find the owner.

Sigyn stretched her neck as far as she could and looked over the crowd to the AllFather for his reaction, but he was too far off in the pavilion for her to see. Theoric appeared behind her with his helmet back on and his face set with hard eyes.

Suddenly the stable gates swung wide open. The old stable master, Sinarr, burst forth from the stables running as fast as his legs could carry him. He was followed by nearly two dozen horses that trotted expectantly behind him and looked to be nipping at his coat pockets. He picked up his pace, elbows to knees, when one mare got a good mouthful and managed to pull the coat off. Sinarr shrieked as he was suddenly yanked backwards and landed on his seat. He nearly fell over again as he tried to regain his footing and run. Finding the coat empty, the horses continued to canter after him.

They were almost to the courtyard now. While the raised platform and courtyard ledge shielded the royal family, a ripple spread through the crowds as the guests soon began to realize that they were about to be trampled by this ridiculous stampede. Women screamed and glasses smashed against stone as courtiers scrambled to get out of the way. A few of the men dove over a wall while one woman's dress was nearly torn in half as she attempted to climb a tree.

Sigyn whirled around. Theoric was gone. He'd likely left to join the rest of the guards in shielding the guests from harm or to stop the animals before they reached the marquee. His safety was not in question.

A hard shoulder into her back nearly sent Sigyn tumbling, but her hand flew out and managed to grasp the one of the vines on the walls. A group of ladies rushed past and threatened to knock her down again, but she wrapped the vine around her wrist and hauled herself out of harms way.

Idunn was the only person on her mind now, and she used her elevated position to look for her sister. Frantically she searched every face, but the more courtiers began to panic the more they seemed to blend together.

"Idunn!" Sigyn cried out into the turmoil, and nearly jumped when a hand touched the top of her head. Idunn was sitting atop the very wall that Sigyn had anchored herself to.

"Up here!"

Her sister reached down and wrapped a hand around her wrist, pulling until Sigyn was able to find purchase on the wall beside her. Below them was a cacophony of shrieking nobility. Men and women both fighting to gain ground in all directions and trampling each other in the process to, well, avoid being trampled.

Sigyn grasped at her shoulder to pull up the problem strap of her dress only to find it missing. It must have ripped off as she was climbing, and she was now infinitely grateful that it had no purpose to begin with.

She turned to her sister, "This is madness!"

"And exciting!" Idunn replied. Sigyn gave her a flat look.

* * *

The heady eruption of chaos was overwhelmingly delightful, but Loki repressed his elation in order to betray no emotion on his face. Baldur, meanwhile, had broken out in a fit of giggles next to him. The scene was positively ridiculous.

Sinarr reached the courtyard with his entourage. He'd been given plenty of room for his entrance as the courtiers had pressed themselves against the barricades as much as they could. Realizing where he was, he skidded to a halt and attempted a bow to the AllFather and queen.

"Your majesties, I beg a thousa-_ack!_ No! Get _away_!"

The horses caught up and surrounded him, sniffing and biting. Sinarr's attempts to push them off were all in vain until it became apparent that there were no sweets to be had. Without ceremony, the animals abruptly abandoned their quarry and wandered the courtyard as though it was a perfectly normal thing to do.

Now that the danger had passed, the guests began to calm and slowly made their way back in, giving the horses a wide berth. A few chuckles were heard, followed by more and more laughter until the arena was filled with it.

Loki stole a look up at the podium.

Thor was leaning against a column and holding his ribs as his entire body shook from laughter. Volstagg and Fandral, who had been standing on the other side of the dais, were equally mirthful. Volstagg was wiping at his eyes. Sif and Hogan were none too amused, but Loki had supposed that he would get nothing from them, stoic warriors that they were. The joke hadn't been for them, anyway.

Frigga was frowning and looking directly at him, to which he offered her a perfectly innocent shrug. Everyone there would know this as his work, there was no doubt in his mind, but nothing could be proven. He and Thor's bet had doubly insured that.

The AllFather would not look at him at all. Instead, he raised his staff and the courtyard silenced their laughter with a hush.

"Master Sinarr," Odin spoke calmly, clearly, as though nothing were amiss, "I trust one of these is our gift?"

The old stable master, whose head had been hanging low with embarrassment, suddenly straightened up with what little dignity he had left and nodded. He paused and looked around the horses that were still milling about the courtyard before walking over to grab the reins of a particularly magnificent white stallion.

Thor stepped down from the dais, still chuckling, and walked over to grab the bit. The stallion reared his head and stamped his front legs, but he quickly calmed under the prince's authoritative grip. Thor stroked its muzzle and looked back,

"Thank you, father."

Odin nodded, "A fine animal, and so richly deserved."

He smiled down at him with a warm look of affection. Music began to play and the festivities resumed as the servants aided Sinarr with the removal of the horses. It was only then that the AllFather's intense gaze settled on his younger son, fixed for what seemed an eternity. Loki felt frozen in place by the overwhelming disapproval in the great king's glare, culminating in a burning weight pressing in his chest. Still, he refused to betray any trace of guilt in his expression.

Using reverence as an excuse to break eye contact, he bowed his head to his father and turned to help Baldur down from his seat. The little prince was still bursting with excitement from the event, and happily bounded away from Loki to find their mother.

He himself left the wall to find Thor, who was still in the same place, gazing admiringly at his gift for a few minutes more before letting one of the servants lead it back to the stables. The Warriors Three and Lady Sif arrived before Loki did, all four beaming with excitement for their friend and admiration for the magnificent animal. As Loki approached he heard the boisterous Volstagg murmur something to Thor, who responded with howling laughter. A ghost of a smile played on the younger prince's lips, knowing he was the source of their high spirits.

Sif was the first to acknowledge him, "You look very pleased with yourself, Loki."

The acerbic turn of her voice was not lost on him. Loki offered her his most charming smile, "I am pleased for my brother and his fine gift. Is that not allowed?"

Sif opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by Thor, who seemed to be positively glowing with delight. .

"Indeed a most entertaining 'gift'! The look on that old crosspatch's face I will cherish for a millennia!"

"Did you see their faces?" Vostagg joined in, "I wouldn't have known Lady Aesa wore a wig if it hadn't gone flying from her head in the scramble!"

With the exception of Hogun, the entire group burst into laughter. Even Sif joined in, albeit with some slight acquiescence. Pleased, Loki smiled more a little genuinely now.

"Well!" declared Fandral as he clapped and rubbed his hands together. Two gorgeous women flanked him on either side, "I don't know about you lot, but I think I've had enough milling around with the livestock. What say you, Thor?"

"Indeed! We'll defer to a more private venue, eh? I believe Loki has much to share with us."

"Of course. I enjoy telling stories."

Thor slapped Loki's back and laughed, bellowing at the nearest servant for more wine and spirits to be brought to his private balcony before taking off in its direction.

The group followed their leader, but Loki paused briefly to look back and admire his handiwork. Frigga and the AllFather had already retired from the festivities and taken Baldur with them. With the horses gone, the guests had resumed pouring drinks into their bright red faces, conversing loudly about the exciting turn of events. To hear them speak, one would think they were in on it. Loki heard his name mentioned a few times, but no one dared to look at him directly. Some of the ladies were bemoaning their torn dresses. A few of the men complained of an evening ruined, while others declaring it to be a most thrilling affair. On the other side of the courtyard, he spied a couple of women climbing down from their refuge atop a parapet.

_A most delightful evening_. The words echoed in Loki's thoughts. He made no effort to hide his smirk before turning to follow his friends out of the madness he had so gleefully created.

A most delightful evening indeed.

* * *

**How do you like it? Is everyone in character? Please review and I promise to post the next chapter much more quickly.**


	3. Sigyn

_She would always remember the taste of foreign blood on her tongue. She had not dared to wipe to her mouth for risk of angering her mother further, but it made no difference. Sigyn was very young then, but the blinding flash of light and her left cheekbone bursting with pain would always remain as fresh as when her mother had first bestowed them._

_With her other hand, Freya gripped her arm so tightly that nails were threatening to pierce flesh as she dragged her down the corridor. A slipper fell off as the little girl struggled to keep from tripping on the white marble, but there was no stopping to retrieve it._

_"What were you thinking, hmm? Did you think you were playing a game?"_

_"No, momma-"_

_Sheer white curtains softly reached out to them from the archways. As they passed, Sigyn wondered absently whether or not her mother's dress had been made from the same fabric, though its gentle feeling was somehow lost as it hung from her mother's shoulders and stretched across her swollen belly. Freya's cheeks, already red from the banquet wine, had grown to even deeper shades of anger. _

_Sigyn's cheeks shone with hot tears flowing so abundant that she could hardly see when they approached the door to her father's chambers._

_"Geirmund!" Freya called, still clutching tightly to her daughter's arm. Sigyn wiped at her eyes and mouth in a vain attempt to look presentable. How desperately she wished she could be in her own room, surrounded by the familiar and far away from there. The guest chambers were so opulent and large, making the little girl shiver in spite of the warm evening breeze coming through the windows._

_Geirmund's deep voice responded from the other side and without hesitation Freya pushed them through the door._

_"Go to your father, child," her mother ordered, "Confess."_

_Sigyn couldn't move. Her father stood rinsing his hands in a basin on the other side of the bed. He was tall, even for an Asgardian, with a strong face underneath a dark beard. Sigyn was born with her mother's amber-colored eyes and slender nose, but she and Geirmund both had the exact same shade of dark, almost-black hair. She had his hands, too, and his broad shoulders. Given time, she would grow to almost match his height. None would mistake it from the moment they saw her; she was her father's daughter._

_Ignoring his wife's dramatics, Geirmund merely glanced at the red hand-print on his daughter's face before turning back to dry his hands. __He was still wearing his ceremonial armor from the banquet; dark brown leather with gold and bronze accouterments. _  


_"What has happened?" He asked calmly.  
_

_Freya scoffed and pushed the door closed with a loud bang that made the little girl jump. A mixture of fear and anxiety caused her eyes to well up again and her cheek stung when she tried to open her mouth to speak. Words stuck to her throat as though she'd swallowed cotton._

_Geirmund watched her before shifting his eyes to Freya with a silent command. The woman scowled._

_"The child has apparently forgotten that she is the daughter of one of Odin's greatest generals. It seems to have slipped her mind that we were invited to the palace as guests and certain decorum is expected," Freya narrowed her gaze, "Tonight she was fighting with one of the other visiting children, scratching and biting like a savage Jotun!"_

_"I was not—!" Sigyn protested. Freya's eyes widened at her outburst and she immediately shrank into a whisper, "...scratching."_

_"Is it true, Sigyn?"_

_"...yes, father."_

_She couldn't bear to meet her father's eyes, keeping her gaze locked on the polished floor. She could hear his long, purposeful strides as he crossed the room until she was staring down at his boots. Her small heart pounded when she felt his strong hand under her chin, lifting her head up until their eyes locked. _

_Sigyn felt as though she were staring up at a giant. Geirmund's face was stern, but he did not appear angry. His eyes demanded explanation—one she could not give him._

_"Why?"_

_"I don't know."_

_Her mother's hand smacked against the back of her skull, "You dare lie to your father?!"_

_Geirmund's head snapped up. _Now_ he was angry, but not with Sigyn, "Peace, woman!" he growled, "Stay your hand or I will raise my own!"_

_Sigyn could feel Freya practically fuming behind her. The woman gritted her teeth and raised her chin at her husband, holding her stomach like a reminder. She remained silent, however, and that made Sigyn smile a little. _

_He looked back to her, folding his great arms over his armored chest. The smile vanished and she swallowed._

_"I am sorry, father. Forgive me."_

_"I cannot until I know what there is to forgive, child," __Geirmund's voice was even and controlled,_ "With whom were you fighting?"

_"Another girl, I do not know-"_

_Freya cut in, "Asmund the merchant. It was his daughter they pulled her off of. What is her name? Sigfrid? Siv?"_

_"Sif," Sigyn corrected quietly._

_Her mother rolled her eyes, "It does not matter. Her father is one of the richest merchants in Asgard and you attacked her like an animal! What will the court think of us once this gets out?"_

_The great general held up his hand and silenced her. He stood silent for a moment, stroking his beard and thinking. Finally, he strode past them both towards the door.,_

_"Follow me, Sigyn."_

_"Where are you going?" Freya called after him, "She must be punished!"_

_"Enough!" Geirmund barked with enough ferocity to make her shrink back. Sigyn timidly stepped around her mother and followed her father out the door and down the hall._

_They passed through the entrance to their own quarters, but her father looked towards the main hall and immediately walked in the opposite direction, deeper into the guest rooms. Now that they were out of her mother's company, Sigyn felt a little more relaxed. He did frighten her when he was angry, but she had always felt more at ease in his presence than her mother's. _

_What did he intend with her, she wondered, now that it was just the two of them? If she was to be punished, he would have left it up to her mother and been done with it. After passing by several doors, her curiosity could no longer be contained._

_"Where are we going, father?"_

_"To Sif's family. You are going to explain and apologize."_

_Sigyn nearly froze, "No! We can't!" She burst out._

_Geirmund halted his steps and turned to look down at his daughter, "And why not?"_

_Sigyn opened her mouth to answer but physically shut it again by clamping her hands over her mouth. She'd promised so faithfully..._

_"Sigyn," Her father crouched until they were eye-level; a giant no more. Sensing his daughter's distress, his tone was more gentle, "Sigyn, there is more to what happened, isn't there?"_

_She couldn't lie, not to him, but she couldn't betray her secret. With her hands still firmly in place, she nodded. He reached out and pulled them down, holding her smaller hands in his much larger ones._

_"I must know if you are not the one at fault, Sigyn. I have never known you to purposefully harm another."_

_Sigyn shook her head. There was no keeping it inside now. She knelt her head down until the tears blurring her eyes went away._

_"I..we were fighting, but we were not angry at each other. After the dinner they separated the boys and sent the girls to the sitting room while we waited for the elders to finish. Sif wanted to practice fighting, but none of the others wanted to. They would rip their dresses. She pleaded with me to help her."_

_"Why did she want to practice fighting?"_

_"Her papa wants her to be a lady," Sigyn explained, "But Sif wants to be a soldier, like you. She practices in secret with the boys so he won't know. They were not there, so I said I would help her."_

_"But you were the one who bit her."_

_She sniffed and nodded, "Uh-huh...we were wrestling and she put her arm over my throat. She didn't know I couldn't breathe because...because she would have let me go, but she didn't..."_

_"You panicked," He concluded._

_Sigyn shook her head enthusiastically, "She screamed. That was when the guards found us."_

_Geirmund nodded and looked around. They were still alone in the corridor, "Why did you take the blame?"_

_"I promised her I wouldn't tell. Her father will beat her if he finds out! Please, papa!"_

_The terror of her betrayal and putting a friend in harm's way must have shown on her face, because Geirmund's expression softened. Then, he smiled a little, eyes unfocused for a moment as he appeared to be thinking. Then, his mouth formed a hard line and he nodded curtly._

_"I think it is time you went to bed." _

_Sigyn stared at him in disbelief, "You're not going to tell Sif's father?"_

_Geirmund shook his head, "No, not this time. Sif will soon learn to heed her father's wishes, and this incident has likely put her off such nonesense. As for you," He placed a hand on either side of her face, brushing her hair back affectionately, "My darling girl. I doubt your mother will ever understand the courage needed to take the punishment for another. That is a rare thing in this place. Sigyn, always remember that you mustn't lie, but you must always strive to do what is right. Do you understand?"_

_Sigyn let her father's words sink in. She eyed him apprehensively, "_Never_ lie?"_

_He shook his head, "Deception is a wicked thing; an ugly stain that cannot be washed away. There are better ways to solve our problems, little bird."_

_She smiled at his pet name for her, then nodded her head, "I understand, papa."_

_Then Geirmund smiled wider, kissing her forehead and rising back to his feet, "The court be damned. They can think what they like!"_

_Taking his outstretched hand, they walked the length of the empty hallway in silence. _

_Nothing more was said and, to Freya's vexation, the incident was never spoken of again. __But she would always remember. _

* * *

**Author's Note: Methinks that Sif never did learn from that incident. Please review, it makes me so happy. More to come!**


End file.
